


La Sombra

by MmeCurie



Category: Assassin's Creed, Assassin's Creed IV Black Flag
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MmeCurie/pseuds/MmeCurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward gets more than he bargains for and everything he wants from a beautiful woman in Nassau.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just A Kiss

“Jaysus!  These damnable sharks are getting bold!  Ade!  I should’ve gone out with the harpoons rather than waste my time with diving for worthless shite!  Nearly lost my hand to one of em!”  Captain Edward Kenway floats on the surface of the water and throws up a few cracked bottles, their contents spoiled beyond use or even recognition and their labels long since lost.  The tall, muscular, dark skinned quartermaster catches each of them easily and only glances at them briefly before tossing them back into the turquoise depths they came from with a shrug.  Edward doesn’t even bother to follow their arcing path or observe the splashes of his troubles disappearing from sight.  Instead, he watches as the heavy diving bell is lifted from the sea on its boom, sending a shower of sparkling seawater cascading down onto the surface of the ocean beside him.

“Perhaps you’ll take my advice next time.”  The quartermaster’s deep voice is heavily marked by a certain smug tone, though his words are innocuous enough.

“Yes, yes, chasing a fool’s dream,” Edward mutters as he climbs up the side of the _Jackdaw_ where it sits, anchored beside the salt and barnacle encrusted remains of the old wreck that had lodged itself into a jagged reef and yielded such pitiful and useless bounty.  His crew is watching him expectantly when he reaches the top and Edward sighs, defeated.  He needs something to lift his spirits and he’s sure he can find it in the bottom of a rum bottle.  The nearest port is Nassau, a few hours’ sailing away.

“Make way to Nassau, lads!  I need something stronger than our stock to help me sleep tonight!”  A shout goes up from the crew as they are quick to follow his command.  As Edward turns to walk toward his cabin, he catches sight of Adewale’s disapproving expression and crossed arms.  He pauses and shouts up at him.

“You surely take your post too seriously, Ade!    Our life isn’t one of rote or responsibility!  We’re free men, so we should live as such!  You might try it some time.”  Adewale’s rumbling voice follows him through the doors of his cabin.

“And you might try being sober, Captain.”  Edward slams his door behind him in response.

 

The tavern called _La Sombra_ is the first place Edward comes to upon beaching and securing his dinghy and it seems as likely a spot as ever despite its rather unimposing appearance.  The place sits close to the beach and it resembles some of the residences scattered on this side of the island with their faded wood sides, stilts and grass roofs.  His motley bunch of sailors had insisted on going to the more popular side of Nassau so Edward had ventured off by himself, still irritated at his fruitless morning.  His thirst is strong after such a wasted endeavor so he shoulders the swinging door open and marches over to a pretty young woman standing behind the counter.  At least he’ll have a nice view, even if the rum selection is wanting. 

The woman’s thick, shining hair is twisted and pinned up in a careless way, with most of it hanging to the right side of her face.  A few tendrils drape down her lovely neck, drawing Edward’s attention to the delicate, swan-like perfection of its sensual beauty and dragging his eyes from her darkly shaded eyes and full, red lips, over her finely curving collarbones and finally down to her more than satisfyingly ample breasts.  She wears a tightly fitting dark brocade underbust corset and a loose, white top that hangs from her shoulders and is secured in place by a leather strap that loops around her arms and crosses in back.  Down Edward’s eyes travel, caressing her lithe figure with pleasure and settling on the tantalizing exposed skin of her narrow waist, marred by a rather jarring, angled scar.  It lends an interesting juxtaposition to her beauty.  Her curving hips are swathed in a rich red scarf and Edward wishes she weren’t standing behind the bar so he could see the rest of her magnificent body. 

When his eyes return to her face she’s watching him expectantly.  Edward nearly starts and wonders how long she had been observing him observing her.  Her lips are curved into a knowing smirk.  Long enough, it seems. 

“Hello there, my lovely.  I came looking for a drink but I might ask for you instead.” Her enticing lips press together and she narrows her striking blue eyes at him.   

“Hmm.  I’m charmed.”  Her voice is rich and soft, a slightly lower pitch than some women but all the more attractive for it.

“Come on, love, I’ve got enough coin to buy the place but all I want is you.”  The woman’s eyes open wide and her lips part in a most inviting way. 

“That much!  What wealthy man is this before me who wishes t’ buy the building and me with it?”   She sweeps her hand across the air in front of her body, gesturing toward where he stands jauntily on the other side of the wooden counter and tilting her head slightly down and to the right to show off the alluring beauty marks beneath her left eye.  Edward tucks his thumbs behind his swords and throws his shoulders back proudly. 

“My men call me Captain Kenway, but such a lovely lass as you can call me Edward.”  As he finishes his statement, he leans one arm on the counter top casually and crooks a finger at her.  She gives him a twisted, long-suffering smirk and her eyes sparkle in the half light of the place.  She leans over the scratched and worn counter, offering him a splendid view of her cleavage, and pinches the lapel of his brown jacket between the slender thumb and forefinger of her left hand. Her eyes travel over his attire, resting on his various weapons and scrutinizing him carefully before moving back up to his face.

“A Captain, hmm?  I find that hard t' believe with what a disheveled mess yer presentin’ here.” As quick as a slashing knife, she clenches her fist in Edward's jacket and drags him closer.  Her face is beside his head and he just barely feels the creamy smoothness of her neck against his cheek as she breathes in deeply through her nose.  Edward takes a whiff of her in return, inhaling the sultry, subtly spicy perfection of her bare shoulder and the inviting dip of her collar bone.  He lowers his lips to her soft skin only to be roughly pushed backwards before he can experience nearly enough of that intoxicating flesh. He barely stops himself from stumbling back a step from the force of her surprisingly strong arm. Edward looks up at her in shock at her where she stands with her left hand resting on her hip and the fingers of her right sliding daintily over the pistol tucked into the front of her wide leather belt .  Her pretty face carries an expression of utter disgust.

“Ya’ stink like a lyin’ rogue.  Get outta’ my tavern.”

“Your… Your tavern?”

“Yes, my tavern.”  The woman enunciates her words clearly, as if he’s a deaf idiot and then turns her back to him, effectively ending her side of the conversation.

“Fine, my lady… tavern owner… I beg your forgiveness.  I’ll take that drink instead.”  Edward raises his palms up toward her in a placating gesture and she eyes him over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow.  She rests her hands on her hips and turns slightly back.

“What’ll ya have, then?”

“Rum, of course.  Your best.”  Edward slides a gold coin across the counter and keeps his finger pressed on it.  She slaps a cup down on the counter and trains her eyes on him as she reaches beneath the bar and takes out a bottle.  She uncorks it and pours, only taking her azure eyes off of him for a moment to ensure not a drop too much fills the glass.

“That’s a bit of a light pour, if I may be so bold.”  The woman slides her fingers lightly over the neck of the bottle on the counter and a small smile plays on the corners her mouth.  Her chin is tipped up slightly and she smugly looks down her nose at Edward.

“Ya’ may not.  Take it or leave it, rogue.  But fer my enduring of yer insufferable presence, I’ll keep the change.”  With a deft move, she leans closer to Edward, snatches up the coin from beneath his finger and deposits it slowly into her cleavage with a smirk of self satisfied delight at his surprised expression.

“You’re an audacious one.” Edward mutters. 

“I’ve been called worse.”  She saunters away with a sway of her hips, taking the bottle with her and leaving Edward with a distinct desire to tame such a fetching and magnificent woman.  She clearly knows her way around the types who inhabit Nassau, and doesn’t seem fazed by what being such a beautiful creature brings out in men. 

Edward watches her make her way down the bar, filling drinks and sharing banter with some of the luckier patrons.  She smiles and laughs at their senseless antics but never fails to get her gold.  With a shrewd eye and a keen awareness of her surroundings, she seems to hear whispers of underhanded behavior before they happen.  One man stealthily reaches across the bar behind her back for a bottle seemingly left forgotten on the surface.  Without blinking an eye, spilling a drop from the bottle she is pouring or breaking off the conversation she’s having with the man before her, she reaches into her corset and whips out a small, thin knife that she spins elegantly in her hand before slamming it into the surface of the bar between the thief’s fingers.  He pulls his arm back with a hiss, examining his undamaged hand with shock and embarrassment, accompanied by laughter from those who witnessed the event.  All the woman has to do is turn her head to meet his eyes with a fiery glare and a tilt of her head to make him go out the door in a flash.  That glare is turned on Edward momentarily as she pulls the blade free from the counter and makes it disappear. 

Edward runs his fingers over the scarred and pitted wooden bar top and wonders if all of the marks in it are from her sharp little blade and overzealous men.  His drink is empty and it is some time before she returns to him, silently offering him more rum with one hand leaning on the counter and the other holding up the bottle.  Edward taps his cup and she pours him a second serving with an equally scanty exactness as the first.  He frowns at it but then moves his hand over to run his finger over the back of her wrist.  Perhaps she needs some encouragement to be more generous.  She snatches her hand away with a softly spoken warning.

“Unless yer a complete fool _and_ blind, you’ll not do that again.  I’m capable a’ more than idle threats.”  Edward leans back and grins at her as he holds out a coin in payment for the drink.

“I imagine you are…”  She reaches for it but he moves it beyond her grasp. 

“Have it yer way.”  Her hand falls on Edward’s cup and she takes it off the bar.

“Oy!  Fine!  Just give me back my drink!”  The woman waits for him to relinquish his coin before returning his cup, sloshing some of its contents over the rim intentionally.  Edward hisses at the loss of his precious alcohol so ungenerously given.

“Listen, I’m sorry, alright?  Can I at least give you a kiss to make up for my brutish ways?”  She snorts and starts to walk away.  Desperate to get her back, Edward gulps down his drink and holds up his cup. 

“I’m not done drinking yet.” 

“I have other customers.”  She pours him a slightly larger cup full, takes his coin and then leaves him, unmoved by his protestations. 

The night wears on and she continues to snub him yet he persists in entreating her to let him at least have a kiss.  Near midnight, Adewale finds him and takes a seat beside him.  Edward is drunk enough by then to reach across the counter and slap the tavern owner’s backside when she comes over to see what her newest customer wants.  The contact of his palm on her firm, round derriere makes a satisfying sound and Edward watches her spin to face him with a disappointingly calm expression on her face.   The regulars go silent.  She pulls out her silver tooled flintlock from her belt, jumps up to sit on her hip on the counter, grabs his collar and presses the muzzle to his mouth.   Edward turns his head away and she digs the cold metal into the soft skin of his neck just under his chin.   

“Do you really want a kiss from me?”  Edward raises his hand up to pull the gun down and she squeezes the trigger slightly.  He freezes in place and glances between Adewale and her. 

“Do you?  No?  Not anymore?  Good.”  Just as quickly as she had neutralized him, she hops down and tucks away her weapon.  Folding her arms under her breasts, she waits for his reaction.  Edward stands and staggers slightly from both the shock of such a sudden brush with his own demise and the liquor in his system.  Adewale stands as well and pushes on his shoulder to guide him towards the door.  Edward moves compliantly enough, dumbfounded, entranced by the woman who so easily could have taken his life, completely smitten by her beauty and confidence.   Then someone starts laughing at him. 

“Ya see that, boys?  He ain’t got nothin’ in his pants but a twat, there!”  Edward casts about for the source of the voice and takes hold of the handles of his twin cutlasses.

“Oh I’ve got a bigger cock than all of you!”

“Tha’s enough, Captain.”  Adewale rumbles, taking a handful of Edward’s jacket and hauling him further toward the door.  Edward draws his swords simultaneously and spins them about.

“Come on then!  Who wants a dustup?” 

“Not you!”  Adewale insists, using one final shove to push Edward outside.  He pins him up against the side of the building and Edward lets his hands drop down by his sides and the tips of his swords dig into the sand drifted up against the weathered boards.

“Ade, why can’t you just let a man have some fun?”

“She almost shot you!  We’re going back to the ship.”  Edward clumsily sheathes his swords. 

“She’s magnificent…” 

“She’s trouble.”

“Mag… magsiffinlent…”  They stumble back to the dinghy and Adewale drops Edward unceremoniously into it to begin paddling back to the _Jackdaw_.

 

In the morning, Edward is at the helm, sailing out of Nassau on the early breezes.  Adewale is his usual quiet self in between bellowing orders at the crew.  Edward looks at his quarter master.

“Ade…”

“What Captain?”

“What do you think her name is?”

“Who?”

“That beautiful woman at the tavern?”  Adewale crosses his massive, scarred arms over his chest and turns to look incredulously at Edward. 

“You must be jesting, Captain.  She nearly killed you and you want to know her name?  How about Heartache?  A pretty lady like her who knows her way around weapons that well?  Nothin’ but heartache and trouble.  Stay away from that one.”

“Jaysus, Ade, you act like a woman with a weapon is something we’ve never seen before!  I don’t see you running from Bonny!”

“She doesn’t point her weapons at me.”

“And that’s what makes this one different, my friend.  There’s more to her…  something special.  Something I want to know more about.  What drives her to be so contrary, so… interesting?”  His voice trails off as he stares out into the open sea before them.  

 “I assure you, Captain, it’s better you just don’ know.  If you dig where you ought not to and get yourself killed by that woman, as beautiful as she is, I am taking the _Jackdaw_ and all the crew on it as my own.”  Edward scowls at his quartermaster and drops the subject.


	2. Liquid Gold in a Bottle

The sun is blazing down on the _Jackdaw_ as the crew ties her up at Nassau.  The docks are a hive of activity and Edward stands at the railing watching it with Adewale by his side.  Adewale sighs with concern at his Captain’s harebrained idea.

“There are other places you can sell here.”

“She said it was her best but it was piss in a cup.  I’ve got a good supply of some of the best rum I’ve tasted and I know she won’t say no to such an offer.  She can’t refuse.”  He pats the bag slung over his shoulder with one of the bottles stowed safely inside.

“Captain, she can refuse.  And I don’t imagine she’ll be happy to see you again.”

“Oh, come on, Ade!  It’s been a month!  She’s probably forgotten all about me.  My hold is overflowing with rum and I need a place to unload it.  How about this:  if she refuses, I’ll sell it some place else and split the profits with you, even.”

“If I’m not draggin’ you out of there with an extra hole in your head...”  The ramp is set in place and Edward doesn’t acknowledge his quartermaster’s concerns beyond rolling his eyes in their sockets. 

“Let’s go see if we can’t get ourselves killed, then.”  He jauntily sets off down the ramp and Adewale follows at a safe enough distance so his captain won’t hear the curses he’s mumbling at his foolishness.  How the man hasn’t come to be murdered a dozen times over is beyond him. 

The very moment Edward enters the tavern, the woman who owns the place notices him.  She’s just as beautiful as he remembers her.  God, what wouldn’t he give to feel her in his hands…  Their eyes fall upon each other across the somewhat empty space and instantly he senses malice from her but if he plays his cards correctly, perhaps he can turn that into interest. 

“Ya’ still want that kiss, ya’ disgustin’ rogue?” She calls out, suggestively caressing the handle of the flintlock tucked into the front of her belt and smirking at him.  Edward frowns before he can stop himself.  Disgusting?  Adewale enters behind Edward, and she laughs.  The sultry, gravelly sound is enchanting.

“Did ya’ bring yer hired man to keep ya’ in line this time?”  The two men approach the bar and the dark haired woman leans her hip against the other side.  Edward gestures toward his quartermaster briefly, keeping his eyes on the lovely sight before him as he lowers his bag down to the floor between his feet.

“This is Adewale, my quartermaster.  He’s just here for business and a drink, the same as me.”

“Oh?  There’re plenty a’ other taverns in this place but ya’ had to come back to the one where ya’ had a pistol fer dessert, hm?”

“Maybe I like a bit of mischief with my drink.  Isn't that right, eh, Ade?”  Edward elbows his quartermaster with a grin but Adewale just scowls at him.  Edward’s favorite tavern owner smiles up at Adewale.

“Looks like the big man’s the one with sense… not you.  Rum, then?”  Edward nods, ignoring her barb.

“Aye,” he says confidently.  She sets two cups down on the counter and fills them both.  When Adewale reaches for his, the woman rests her elbows on the bar, exposing an impressive amount of cleavage, and places her small, fair hand over his huge dark one where he grips his cup.  She slowly traces a scar on his thumb with her fingertip.  Edward freezes in mid-sip and watches her shamelessly flirting with his quartermaster.  She smiles knowingly as Adewale’s eyes move over her beauty rapidly and seem to be pulled to her breasts over and over again.  Finally, he settles his gaze somewhere behind her head.

“Now, miss…”  Adewale says quietly.  With another bewitching smile and a tightening of her fingers on his wrist, the woman shushes him, tilting her head toward Edward briefly as she speaks. 

“Yer happy with this lout as yer commander?  I’ve seen a dark man or two become captains.  Ya’ have the look of a leader in yer eyes.”  Her own blue irises sparkle darkly as she watches him from under her lashes.

“Aye, dat may be true, but so far I’ve been content with my duties as quartermaster.”  

“Oh.” She smiles and strokes her finger in slow circles over Adewale’s hand.  Edward slams his cup down.

“I’ll be having another, if you can take your pretty claws off my man!”  The tavern owner stands upright, turning her body and sliding her hand slowly off of Adewale’s without breaking eye contact with him.  Only when Adewale raises his arm to drink does she turn her attention to Edward where he’s impatiently gripping his cup.  His lips are pressed tightly together and he has to consciously relax his shoulders at her obvious baiting of his ire.  The infuriating woman raises an eyebrow at him and her lovely lips curve upward into a deadly smile.

“Jealous?”  She pours Edward another drink and he tosses it back, gesturing for more.  After she refills his cup, she steps back and raises her chin.

“So, Rogue.  What’s this ya’ were sayin’ ‘bout business?”  Her hand rests idly around the neck of the rum bottle but she moves her fingertip around the mouth of it.  Edward tears his eyes away from her hand, tamping down his illicit imaginings of something else she could be caressing in a similar fashion. 

“I can sell you what you need for this place.  Keep your stock of rum up, and of a better quality than this, I might add.”

“What makes ya' think I’m interested?”

“Is this your best?”  Edward raises his newly filled drink toward her and tilts it from side to side until it nearly sloshes out.

“It is.”

“Then you’re interested.”

“Not so fast.  What’re ya askin’ for it?  How much ya got?” 

“I’ve got a nearly endless supply.  Right now, my hold has twenty eight crates of it.  As for how much… why don’t you taste it first?”  He lifts up his bag from the floor and pulls the bottle out of it.  The woman snatches it from his hands and Edward downs his remaining rum, watching her reaction as she looks at the bottle in her hand.  Her eyebrows move together and she appears angry.

“Where’d ya’ get this?”

“That’s none of your concern.  I’ve got it so that’s all you need to know.”

“I need t’ know that I’ll have a steady supply a’ it.  If this is some kinda joke…”

“You’ll have it.  I have my ways and I’ll sell it to you first.  I know I can find others who will buy it if you don’t.  Wouldn’t you want to have the best rum on the island?”

“This is private stock.  I could be hanged fer sellin’ it if the Spaniards find out.”

“The men I got it from will tell no tales, I can assure you of that.”  The woman eyes him carefully and sets the bottle down on the counter.

“I’m not takin’ plunder.”

“Now listen here…”  The woman forestalls him by slapping her palm down between them.

“No!  Ya’ listen to me!  My father tried to sell plundered goods in this tavern fer years.  He got himself into debt with the wrong men, buyin’ their pillaged wares n’ such.  He tried t’ sell me t’ get out of it.  I was sixteen years old and no doubt would have been raped t’ death by those types.  Fortunately fer me, he got himself killed by their collectors before he could sell me t’ them.  I’ve worked too hard to bring this place back from the gallows t’ fall into the same traps he did.  Ya’ can take yer filthy wares and go.”  Edward fears he’s lost already.  Her eyes spark angrily and it’s clear that she will fight to the death to keep this place as her own.  She appears to be in her twenties, so if she had spent more than five years getting it running on her own…  Edward considers a point that would seem to be a hole in her story. 

“How did you pay off the debt your father had created?”

“I killed the men who held it.”  Edward laughs a little too loudly.  She’s good at threats but she’s no fighter.

“Ya’ don’ believe me?  I may not have won them in a battle a’ strength but a woman’s got her ways.  Some well made plans, a reliable friend, a bit a’ good luck and good timing made me a free woman and the owner of a beaten up, profitless tavern.  I’ve made some mistakes along the way but I like what I have.  And I plan t’ keep it.  So bugger off.”  Adewale speaks up.

“Captain, she’s made her choice.”  Edward holds up his hand to stop him.

“But I haven’t finished making my point.”  Before he can continue, the woman forestalls him.

“Keep in mind yer not the first man to come swaggerin’ in here with his cock hangin’ out wantin’ to strike some kinda arrangement with me.  They all want the same thing as part a’ their ‘deal’ and just like them, _ya ain’t gettin it_.”  She brashly cups her breasts in her hands and lifts them slightly, amplifying the roundness of her cleavage before letting them fall back to their places.  Edward’s mouth falls open.

“Yer an open book, C _aptain,_ and yer just like the rest a’ them.”  The contempt in her voice is sharp and cutting.  Edward composes himself and holds up his hand with his palm facing her.

“All right, lass.  I admit I was less than gentlemanly the last time I was here.  But the God’s honest truth is that I have a hold full of rum that yes, I plundered from some galleons, and I need to offload it.  I can sell it to you or I can sell it to someone else with less fuss.  And I give you my word as a man, as a Captain, as a fuckin’ pirate if you please… that if anyone comes knocking looking for the source, you tell them it was Captain Edward Kenway of the _Jackdaw_ who procured it.  I’ll take on anyone who wants to know and I’ll sink them just the same as any other uppity shite who gets in my way.” 

“Those are big words, comin’ from a trumped up dandy like you.” To Edward’s surprise, her tone is more of intrigued curiosity, though from her facial expression, no one would believe it.  Just in case his analysis is wrong, he extends his hidden blade, slices off the twine wrapping over the top of the bottle and pulls the cork out with his teeth.  He pours some of the rum into his empty cup and extends it to the woman.  She takes it from him and raises it to her nose to smell it.  Taking a sip, she rolls the golden rum around on her tongue before swallowing it.  She closes her eyes and breathes out the fiery fumes of the alcohol through her nose. 

When she opens her eyes, she fixes Edward with their deep blue depths. 

“How much?”

“For each crate?”

“Fer the entire hold’s worth.”

“Fifteen thousand Reales.”

“I’ll give ya’ a third a’ that.”

“This is liquid gold in a bottle, woman!  Ten thousand.”

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.  The door is behind ya.”  Edward scowls at her persistence but she glares at him and her fingers grip the counter top so hard they’re whitened at the tips.

“Seven.  And any time I’m in port I drink for free.”  The woman’s full lips press together and then she produces the small knife from her corset.  Edward wonders if she plans on attempting to kill him.  Adewale stiffens beside him and his hand moves toward the huge machete on his hip.  With a quick slash, she opens the skin of her right palm and holds out her bloody hand toward Edward. 

“Blood fer blood.  Ya fuck with me, I’ll send all the world’s trouble straight fer yer toy boat, God help ya’!”  Impressed by her actions, Edward uses his left hidden blade to slice open his own hand and take her handshake.  Her grip is firm and she looks him right in the eye.  Her hand tightens on his and she turns his wrist so his hidden blade is exposed, reflecting the light coming in through the opened shutters of the tavern. 

 “I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement.  Perhaps now there can be less hostility between us.”  Edward offers.

“Don’ count on it.  But I trust yer word because a’ this more than anythin’ else.”  Edward follows her gaze down to the hidden blade on his arm. 

“Oh?”  Edward’s eyebrows raise upwards in surprise but before he can ask what she knows about such things, she speaks again.

“I expect t’ see every crate here by noon tomorrow.  Only when I have all a’ them in my stock will ya’ get yer money.”  Edward nods and she releases his hand.  Their mingled blood spills onto the surface of the bar and she leaves it there to congeal without sparing a backward glance for him.  Edward and Adewale exchange a long stare. 

“A blood pact is a strong thing, Captain.”

“I know, Ade.  I don’t intend to break it.”  He pours them each a serving of the rum from the bottle he brought, feeling more of his blood run down his wrist and under his bracer when he raises his cup.

 

The afternoon wears onward yet Edward tarries at the counter with Adewale.  With no way to collect any revenue from him drinking his own liquor, he has effectively taken away any need for his lovely business partner to speak with him.  She lingers near the opposite side of the long wooden bartop and studiously ignores his presence, choosing instead to lavish her coveted attention upon an enthusiastic drunk who’s generous with his coin and his compliments to her. 

To Edward’s dismay, she returns his pathetic flirtations rather convincingly.  Perhaps… too convincingly.  She even spares Edward one sidelong glance as the man kisses her hand.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, she allows the sot to keep his filthy fingers on her hand and wrist and to continue kissing her knuckles from time to time. 

“Jaysus, Ade, he’s slobberin’ like a fuckin’ dog all over her!  And I can’t even get close enough to talk to her without having something to sell!”  When the man openly gawks at her cleavage and kisses her hand yet again while her attention is diverted  conversing with someone else, Edward has had enough.  He stands abruptly, knocking his seat aside.  Before Adewale can even voice a word of caution, Edward is shouting.  He points a finger at the drunk seated several paces from him.

“Oy!  You!  Get yer’ pissin’ lips off her, ya slimy shite, before I cut them off!”  Adewale can do nothing more than grab the back of Edward’s jacket as he attempts to approach the offending man.  Edward reels around and glares at his quartermaster. 

“Let it go, Captain!”  he hisses, but Edward’s hands are in tight fists by his sides and his stance is all angry determination.  Adewale releases his grip when he sees the stormy expression on his face.  It isn’t the first time Edward’s gotten himself into a brawl and it certainly won’t be the last.  In the moments Edward had spared to address Adewale, the man’s expression had changed from surprise to swaggering mockery.

“Second thoughts?  Maybe ya ain’ as hard for her as ya’ thought!”  He gyrates his hips in an exaggerated fashion to emphasize the insult.  Edward hurls himself at the man, swinging as he moves, and lands a punch on the side of his face that sends him reeling.  The two men go down on the floor and the tavern erupts in cheers and jeers for both sides.  Within minutes, both men are bloodied and several other hot headed patrons have joined in just for fun.  Adewale watches silently from the side with his arms crossed over his chest as tables are smashed into, bottles and cups are upset onto the floor to shatter and wooden dowels and splinters from broken chairs make for hazardous footing.  Only when Edward is nearly overwhelmed by several men at once does Adewale reluctantly join in the fray.  He knocks men aside and puts his efforts into protecting his inebriated captain from death.

No amount of shouting or thrown items on the bar owner’s part can penetrate the red haze of the combatants.  She reaches beneath the counter and snatches an ornate cutlass, makes a surprisingly agile vault over the top of her bar and begins swinging amid the scuffle.  The sharp sounds of the flat of her blade smacking into flesh and the howls and outcry from the men so punished begin to overtake the clamor.  One by one she breaks up the fight and sends every man involved out her door with reddened welts on arms, necks or other sensitive places.  If the threat of a beating isn’t enough to quell any particularly arrogant or drunk man, he receives a knock on the head hard enough to make him rethink his actions or fall unconscious. 

At last, she approaches Edward, where he laughs on the floor with a bloodied nose and befuddled wits from drink.  Adewale steps closer and she presses her blade point against his chest with a shake of her pretty head.  Her eyes positively glow with righteous indignation and Adewale steps back from her fiery blue rage, certain she’ll administer the same treatment to him as she had already so thoroughly doled out to at least a dozen others.  Turning her attention to Edward, she speaks quietly.

“Get up!  And get out!”  Edward continues to laugh like a fool until she whacks his thigh with her blade, causing him to swear loudly and reach for his leg.  He misses it and his hands hit the floor and his stomach instead.

“I said get _up_!” she barks out, punctuating her words with another whack to his leg.  Edward rolls on his side and Adewale takes him by his shoulders to haul him the rest of the way to his feet.  They’re only a step into their retreat when Edward wipes his mouth and looks blearily over his shoulder at the angry bar owner where she stands with her feet widely spaced and her sword out at an angle from her body.

“I’d a thought you’d appreciate a man defending your honor, love.” His words slur together and more blood drips down his chin from his nose and mouth.  The woman’s eyes widen and she crosses the distance between them more quickly than Adewale can drag Edward towards the door.  Twisting her body, she raises her arm and delivers a series of blows to Edward’s back, buttocks and legs that gets him moving faster out of her tavern.  Adewale can’t help but laugh as she adeptly bypasses his supporting arm, leaving it unscathed while Edward shouts in pain.

Standing at the door, she points her blade and shouts after him.

 “You’ll get no quarter from me!  Nothin’s changed between us.  Don’t ya’ _dare_ come back til ya’ got what ya’ promised!”

 

The morning brings Edward only sore muscles and stinging bruises in addition to his hangover.  A deal is a deal, though, and money’s money so Edward rolls out of bed, dons the pants he wears to dive in because they allow him the most comfort when he needs to move about, foregoes a shirt and rouses more of his men to join him in the cargo hold. 

“I’ve just sold the lot of this rum to a very discriminating tavern owner.  Today, we’ll be unloading it all and delivering it.”  A collective groan is softly uttered from the gathered men. 

“I’ll hear none of your grumbling, men.  It means money in your pockets to do with as you please but you’ll get naught if you laze about.”  Edward joins them in lifting the heavy crates.  He’s half way down the ramp to the docks when James Kidd catches his eye.  He’s leaning against a piling on the docks with his arms crossed over his chest watching the procession with smug disbelief.

“You’re doin’ some actual work, Kenway?” he drawls, his wry grin twisting up into a full smile.  It fades when Edward reaches into the crate on his shoulder, takes out a bottle of rum and tosses it at him.  The boy catches it easily and whistles when he looks at the label.

“Starting early on the good stuff?  You usually like to get piss drunk on the cheapest swill you can find.”

“I’ve turned over a new leaf, Kidd.  I’m in honest business now.”  Kidd laughs. 

“That’ll be the day!” 

“Why don’t you tag along and see, then?”  Kidd does follow, and he grows suspiciously quiet as they near the tavern.  Once inside, he starts to laugh and uncorks the bottle in his hand to take a swig.  Edward looks sharply at him.

“You just cost me, Kidd!”  Kidd wipes his mouth with his sleeve and tilts his head toward where the woman behind the counter is standing with her hands on her hips and a furrow in her pretty brow. 

“Of all people to work for, you picked her?”  Edward looks between them.

“Wot, you two know each other?  You friends or something?” 

“After a fashion, yes.”  Kidd says, still laughing.

“Care to elaborate?”  Edward frowns as his friend and business partner exchange a glance.  He hopes they haven’t been intimately involved with each other, or worse yet, are currently involved in a relationship.  It could explain her unwillingness to reciprocate his interest but Edward has a hard time believing she would prefer such a scrawny boy to him.  His thoughts are cut off when the tavern owner answers.

“No.  It’s unimportant how our paths crossed.  What is important is all that rum goin’ in ta my cellar.  The door’s over there.”  She points to the far side of the bar and Edward scowls as Kidd settles himself on a seat near the distractingly fetching woman and joins her in watching with disconcerting interest as he carries his crate to the stairs and out of sight.  He laments ever bringing that infernal Kidd along, yet how was he supposed to know they have some kind of shady history together?

The cellar is cool and dark.  The tavern is built next to a tall dune on the beach and he would bet the _Jackdaw_ that part of the structure is within the dune.  After placing the crate down next to a closed wooden door unexpectedly located beneath the bar and most likely leading to the area that would most assuredly be enclosed on three sides by sand, Edward trudges back up the stairs.  Kidd is leaning on the counter and the tavern owner barely looks at him as he walks toward them.  A steady stream of sailors is already carrying in the rest of the crates.

“Come on, Kidd.”

“Aw, we were just having quite the interesting conversation about you!”

“Indeed?”  Edward huffs.  He positively quivers in jealous anger as the very woman he desperately wishes to take to his bed reaches her fingers to Kidd’s almost childlike smooth-skinned jaw and kisses him on the mouth right in front of him.  Edward stalks away, kicks the door open and leaves, followed by the enchanting sound of sultry laughter. 

Kidd catches up to him when he’s nearly back to the docks.

“You didn’t even take your payment.  Here.  Seven thousand Reales.  It’s more than I’ve ever held at once.”  Edward takes the bag without a word and clenches it in his fist. 

“What’s got your breeches so up your arse?  You’re usually slightly less ornery than this.”  Kidd picks up a smooth stone and tosses it towards the sea.

“You seem to think it’s funny to goad me, boy?”

“About what?  Adriana?  You like her!”  Kidd laughs.  Edward stops walking and spins to face Kidd.  He’s grinning from ear to ear and he shifts his weight onto his left leg and crosses his arms over his chest again.

“Adriana?  That’s her name?”  Edward knows he must look the fool for he certainly sounds like one.  Kidd sees his opening and takes it, as usual.

“You didn’t even know her name, man?  You’ve got to be foolin with me!”  Edward begins walking back toward the docks. 

“She isn’t exactly the most welcoming woman in Nassau.  I think I’m lucky she even speaks to me.”

“You are.  But if you think she’s as easily won over as that, you’re a bigger lout than I thought.”

“And you’ve the secret to ‘winning her over,’ it seems.  Are you sharing a bed with her?”  Kidd laughs and Edward looks over his shoulder only to see him doubled over with his hands on his knees.  Edward doesn’t know what to make of it so he keeps walking.  It would seem everyone has better luck with her… Adriana… than he does.

 


	3. Predator and Prey - Or is it the Other Way 'Round?

Edward tips the bottle up to his lips and is startled when nothing reaches his tongue.  He squints at the empty bottle and holds it upside down before his face, only to see one miniscule drop fall to the wooden planks of the _Jackdaw_ ’s Captain’s cabin.  With a grunt of disgust, he tosses the bottle to the side where it rolls over and clinks against the other one he discarded only an hour before.  As he struggles drunkenly up from his chair to his feet and lumbers toward his door, he ponders why the _Jackdaw_ is rolling so crazily on the seas.  _Doesn’t Ade know how to sail this thing without me at the helm?_

Bursting through the door, he encounters the brightest moon he has ever seen and he shields his eyes with an upraised hand and a guttural curse.  His tripping steps carry him to the rail.  Expecting to see high seas and frothy waves cresting up the sides of his ship, he is pulled up short to find the _Jackdaw_ anchored at the familiar port of Nassau and a skeleton crew manning the watches.  Edward shakes his head in confusion and attempts to clear the blurriness from his eyes.  The motion causes his body to sway dizzily and he grips the railing as the horizon tilts and spins.  The last thing he remembers before hitting the deck is Adewale’s low laugh filtering through the balmy night air from behind him. 

Edward wakes in his bed, no doubt dragged there unceremoniously by his sailing men, based on half remembered experiences of previous adventures when overdrinking.  His head aches and he raises his hands up to rub his face.  Only a few days prior, he felt like his whole world was turning upside down.  He doesn’t even know his own men!  Are there any other men who are women in his crew or is he lucky enough to have the only one sharing his company?  How long has Mary Read been prancing around, posing as James Kidd?  Years, perhaps, for all he knows!  Anger rises in Edward’s chest, yet not as powerful as he would expect for broken trust such as that. Perhaps rehashing the rather embarrassing revelation so many times over had finally dimmed its intensity. 

“It’s a man’s world on the sea, and if ya’ want a piece of it, ya’ better not be afraid to do what it takes to get there.  I’m no whore, whether I’m boy or girl, and I knew there were better ways to get what I wanted on me own terms.  Anyone who thinks otherwise won’t live long enough to tell me secrets,”  Mary had said with a flash of her blade when they had had a chance to talk after cleaning out that plantation’s warehouse; she was right.  Edward’s anger dissolves into a wry smile and a cynical snort.  Serves him fair anyway for allowing her playacting to get under his skin.  No one else had successfully roused his hackles so thoroughly, time and again, with sharp wit, stinging rebukes and outright dismissal.  She is a master at arms and yet is capable of slaying her opposition without once drawing a blade.  An aggravating genius, to be sure, with a bigger sword than any true man Edward had yet to encounter. 

At least he has Mary to thank for finally learning a little more about the woman who had managed to completely ensnare his mind with little more than a look of unbreachable disdain.  Mary had revealed her own role in teaching Adriana how to effectively wield weapons and best almost anyone, no matter their size.  With the help of only one other Assassin friend of Mary’s, an older Assassin with a years of combat experience named Ibrahim, Adriana’s schooling had encompassed a blistering two years of nightly practice and daytime charade.  Adriana bided her time and soaked up as much knowledge of fighting and stealth as she could, forcing herself to appear weak and afraid as she worked the failing tavern within the sight of the dangerous men that had been set to watch her, even as her confidence grew and her moment of reckoning drew closer.  Mary had constantly reminded her that she didn’t need to be stronger than her opponent – just better.  If Adriana became too overconfident, Mary always cut her down to her place with a gentle reminder that she wasn’t as good as she thought she was.  Mary said Adriana bore several scars from her gentle reminders.  Perhaps the rather large one on her hip is one of them.  It is no wonder she hadn’t taken well to Edward’s actions in what he thought was defense of her.  Adriana can hold her own more than she lets on, it seems.  

As it had turned out, her victory had come sooner than Adriana had planned on and at a high cost.  After barely avoiding her father’s murderer and former bill collector by paying every bit of money she could to them while she trained for vengeance, the man had finally decided he would have Adriana as payment after all.  None of Mary’s spies had forseen him suddenly making an appearance in Nassau, so both of them had been unprepared for his arrival at the tavern on a windy evening on the brink of a hurricane.  The unfortunate beach location of the tavern and the howling winds had made her abduction easy for him.  He had dragged her, kicking and screaming, out of the tavern and across the sand to his dinghy.  No one heard her over the pouring rain, whistling gales through the palms and the sand being battered against the shuttered windows of the closest buildings.  

Fortunately for her, Mary and Ibrahim had been just downstairs and had raced through the storm to take a roundabout path to the ocean.  Careless of their flintlocks, they had both leapt into the high waves and swum to the galleon anchored in the deep coral cove close to shore.  

Adriana, under the rough, wandering hands and sickening promises murmured by her captor, endured the trip to the galleon knowing that her chance, while slim, needed to be taken while she still had her hands free.  She also had faith in her close friends.  They had discussed the very same scenario that she was enduring at that moment and knew Mary and Ibrahim would come through.  True to their promises to each other, as Adriana was eagerly hoisted up to the deck of the galleon by her debtor’s men, she caught sight of Mary scaling the rigging on the far side of the ship.  Ibrahim was nowhere in sight but she was confident he wouldn’t leave them unassisted. 

The rain beat down on everyone on board and the wind mercilessly buffeted the ship, making it roll deeply on the seas.  A sailor held her arms behind her and another produced some rope.  

“Shud we tie ‘er t’ th’ deck, Cap’n?  Nice ‘n pretty fer us all t’ ‘ave a bit o’ fun wit ‘er?”  Adriana stood tall and fought her instinct to struggle.  

“No!  I’ll go willingly with th’ captain.  He’s who I owe, not the mess a’ ya!”  her voice had carried more scorn than she had intended but her heart was pounding out of her chest with fear and anxiety.  The sailor with the rope laughed in her face and gyrated his hips. 

“Oi, we’ll ‘ave ya’, lassie, we will.  One way er ‘nother…”  The captain silenced them with his raised hand. 

“Enough.”  He held out his hand toward Adriana and as soon as her arms were released, she had reached out and taken his hand, allowing him to lead her toward his quarters, accompanied by the lewd calls of the sailors. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, dimming the sounds of the storm outside, the captain of the galleon propelled Adriana into the center of his cabin.  

“Now.  I’ve waited long enough for my pay.” 

“I’ve been paying ya’ all I can!  Every Reale I make goes t’ ya’!” 

“I’ve grown weary of your pittance and decided to collect the balance.  There’s no point in making excuses now, my dear.”  A strange cry followed by a thump sounded outside the door and the captain’s eyebrows moved together. He turned to walk toward the door but Adriana stepped forward and touched his arm.  When he spun back to face her, Adriana fingered the neckline of her shirt and pulled it down to reveal a little more of her suntanned breast.  Her other hand strayed to her thigh and she began to raise her skirt upwards. 

“P’raps… p’raps I don’t like bein’ in debt… let me settle it now and be done with it.”  With a low snort of laughter, the captain began to unbuckle his belt. 

“You’ll be settlin that debt for a lot longer than you think.”   Adriana just smirked at him and watched, leaning casually on his map desk as he toed off his boots and started to lower his breeches. 

“That pretty face and body of yours will be nothin’ more than a penny whore’s by the time we’re done with ya.  Even the poorest beggar won’t want ya.” 

The moment he dropped the breeches to his ankles, Adriana lunged forward and swept his feet out from under him.  With his feet so encumbered by his breeches, he was unable to stop himself and he collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor, shouting curses.  Adriana moved as quickly as a cat to swipe his twin cutlasses from his awkwardly shifting body.  One of them she flung across the room to stick into the wall with a quivering, metallic thunk.  The other she angled toward the captain’s stomach while she cocked his flintlock and aimed it at his head from where she stood above him at his side.  He still had another flintlock on his person but with two weapons aimed at him he knew he couldn’t get it before she gutted him or blasted a hole in his face.  Instead, with his legs and privates exposed, he raised his hands in surrender.  

“You’re a mite quicker in mind and body than your father, _senorita_.  Perhaps we can strike a bargain?” 

“My debt is paid.  In full.  From this moment forward, I owe ya’ nothin’!” 

“I said a bargain.  I have men to pay and a business to run.” 

“Run it someplace else.  The tavern is mine.  Leave me alone.”  The captain reached toward her and Adriana flicked her wrist, slashing a long, deep cut on his arm. 

“Don’ even think about it.” She growled.  

“My men will enjoy making you regret this.  I’ll make you beg for death.”  The captain turned his head toward the cabin door and shouted for his first mate. 

“Costa!  Costa!”  No one came and Adriana made an exaggerated pose of listening for him.  

“Looks like yer a man short.”  Even as she spoke, the door banged open.  Mary stood there, breathing hard with her hair in disarray and her face and body marked with spattered blood that had merged with the rain water and dissolved into dark discolorations on her clothing. 

“Oh, I made it in time for the show!”  She started laughing at the captain as he attempted to cover himself.  

“and a right good one it is! Get yer poxy arse up!”   

The captain doggedly refused to be the least bit apologetic.  His anger drove him to make further threats against Adriana and Mary. 

“I’ll have you both swingin’ from my yardarms before this is over.  But not before my men are done with you.”  He tugged his breeches up and hastily buttoned them as he spoke. 

“Oh, they’re done with us already, Cap’n.  Take a look.”  Mary toed the door open to reveal the deck, littered in the man’s crew and soaked in the heavy rain fall.  The raindrops were falling so hard they created a mist on the surface of the deck that crawled between the bodies like a ghostly haze.  Ibrahim walked among them, making his way over to the captain’s cabin with his twin cutlasses held out to the sides.  Occasionally, one of the bodies received an additional hole from him, just to make sure.  Noticing the opened door and the Captain seemingly neutralized, he quickened his steps to join them.  

“Everyone alright?  Dria?”  He swept his eyes over his two companions and let them linger on Adriana for an extra moment.  When she nodded, he switched back to Mary. 

“Let’s finish this then, so we can return.  I don’t want us to be missed in the morning.” 

“Right.” 

With a shout and a startlingly fast movement, the captain knocked aside the sword held in Adriana’s hand and ducked down to snatch his second flintlock from his holster.  The deafening crack of Adriana pulling the trigger of the gun in her own hand filled the cabin, as well as the smoke from the spent gunpowder.  She felt herself knocked down onto the floor as a second gunshot rang out.  A heavy weight on her made her thrash and nearly scream until Ibrahim’s voice broke through her panic. 

“It’s me, Dria!  It’s just me!”  They both sat up and looked over at the captain where he lay in a puddle of blood that became more apparent as the smoke began to drift out the door of the cabin.  He had a hole in his throat and he was quite clearly dead.  Adriana had missed her shot.  Mary stood up from where she had been crouched over him and retracted her bloodied hidden blade. 

“Bastard moves fast but not fast enough.  Good riddance, eh?”  Adriana just nodded her head and threw the gun she had fired into the corner of the cabin.  Ibrahim helped her to her feet and held her arm all the way to the door before releasing it and unhooking the lantern from the ceiling.  He poured the oil from it over the entire cabin and then smashed it down onto the floor to ignite the floorboards.  Mary and Adriana went ahead to pull out the knots on the ropes for lowering the dinghy back down to the water.  Ibrahim met them there and made Adriana climb down after Mary before he raised the anchor of the ship to set it adrift.  In such a riotous storm, it would be pulled away on the waves and shipwrecked someplace far from there if it didn’t burn completely.  He climbed down, joined them in the dinghy and took the oars to paddle them the short distance back to shore.  On the way, he joked about the rain. 

“Might as well have swum, yes, as much good bothering to stay dry does for our clothes?”  He finished with an unexpected wheezing cough that made Mary give him a sharp look in the darkness.  He refused to acknowledge it and quickly wiped his mouth with his dark sleeve.  On shore, he held the boat steady while the women got out, breathing more heavily than someone of his level of fitness should.  He made it a few steps toward the tavern and then abruptly fell to his hands and knees on the sand.  He clutched his side with one hand and held himself up with the other.  Mary and Adriana ran back to him and his arm buckled.  The two women helped him roll over onto this back.  Mary yanked his hand from his chest and shifted his unbuttoned vest aside.  His shirt was stained with blood.  It had been nearly indistinguishable due to the pouring rain washing away the evidence so well.  Mary raised her voice in alarm. 

“Ya’ fuckin’ liar!  Ibrahim!  Don’t ya’ fuckin’ do this!  Not now! Dammit!  Look what yer leavin’ behind!”  Mary covered her mouth, lurched to her feet and paced away.  Ibraham turned his face and studied Adriana.  Adriana felt her heart nearly burst at the realization of his affection for her.  It crushed her at the very same moment, for no one had ever hidden their interest in her as well as he had and she knew that he cared for far more than her appearance.  Suddenly all the words he had said to her as he helped train her took on different meaning, especially the questions he had asked her recently about what she wanted to do when she was free.  He had often encouraged her to come to the small island he called home and meet his and Mary’s other friends, but only if she could reconcile herself to a life without the tavern.  She had always refused.  Now she wished she hadn’t.  

Ibrahim’s hand moved slightly in the sand between them and Adriana picked it up and held it to her chest.  She watched his face and ran her eyes over his features.  Born on these very Caribbean islands, with a dark complexion and pale eyes acquired from his unusual mix of Mayan and Persian heritage, he had no more than fifteen years on her; not as old as some who had attempted to win her over with silvered tongues or bawdy promises, but older than she normally would have taken a second look at.  But his features were kind despite his skill with weapons, and his patience was endless.  She had always envied his incredibly smooth grace with swords and more than once he had firmly taught her patience by forcing her to stay calm while he goaded her with insults, raising her ire with deliberate commentary on a woman’s lesser abilities in combat.  He only got worse when she would attempt to downplay her femininity by tying her hair up in a bun, tightly wrapping her breasts and donning men’s clothing for her training.  

“Appearances don’t matter, Dria.  It’s your skill, only your skill that matters.  Prove to me you’re much more than you appear.”  More than once, he had looked pointedly at Mary afterwards if she had been present, and she would usually storm off in a snit.  His stern lessons made his rare compliments for her achievements all the more valuable, for they had powerful meaning behind them.  

Adriana felt tears rising in her eyes and she let them fall, lost in the rainwater that slicked her hair to her scalp and ran in thousands of rivulets down her face and arms.  Ibrahim shook his head slightly in the sand and raised his hand further up in her grip to touch her chin.  

“Don’t, Dria.  Don’t let my last memory of you be sadness.  You’ve won a new life… I only wish I could stay and convince you to share it with me. ” His voice was thick with blood and the air rasped in his lungs.  Adriana had leaned close then and touched her lips to his.  He kissed her back almost chastely if not for the affection behind it and then rested as Adriana pressed her cheek against his and gripped his hand in both of hers.  Only a short time later she felt him exhale deeply, as if he had fallen asleep.  His hand became heavy in hers and when she sat up his eyes were open, unblinking in the rain, and his chest no longer rose and fell.  

Adriana and Mary buried him there in the sand that stormy night, unseen by anyone, and his grave was left unmarked. 

Edward thinks about how Adriana must have felt in the days and weeks following her triumph, so darkened by the loss of a friend and possible lover.  Mary said she had forsaken the concept of ever being with anyone; not after she had witnessed the terrible death of someone who had sacrificed himself by taking the bullet intended for her.  That’s why, when Mary had also revealed that Adriana confessed that “something about ‘is crass, irritatin’ presence is quite intriguin’ and might actually hide a better person than ‘e lets on with all ‘is false bravado and empty blusterin,’” Edward had found himself flabbergasted.  Adriana’s rather unsavory description of him still bit just as painfully as when Mary had regaled it while imitating her friend’s dismissive attitude.  

Perhaps it is time for him to attempt being less of a disgusting rogue, as she prefers to call him, and be more of a gentleman, as unappealing as the thought is.


	4. A True Gentleman

To the great entertainment of the crew, after he’s sobered up Edward uses an oar to beat the dust from his Assassin robes and then scrubs them in fresh water thoroughly, setting them out on the deck to dry in the sun.  He then spends time before his less than adequate mirror shaving off his scruff and trimming the ends of his hair.  As evening is falling, he grudgingly takes a trip to a nearby bath house and cleans every trace of grime, sweat and salt from his body.  Not a single cranny escapes his attention and when he finally dresses himself in his robes he feels like a new man.  How fitting, since that was the point.  

Adewale doesn’t even say anything when Edward returns to the Jackdaw to collect his weapons and complete his outfit.  

“Well, mate, I’m off to make a fresh start with Adriana.  It seems she may prefer a man with some refinement.  I’m capable of being more than some lout with a boat.  I’m a captain, after all.”  Adewale merely sniffs at his jocular manner and turns away, raising his spyglass to examine the horizon.  

As he walks to the tavern, Edward finds himself muttering potential conversation starters under his breath, even catching himself emphatically gesturing from time to time.  He’s a man grown enough not to have his heart aflutter over a woman; lord knows he’s broken too many hearts, including his own, to be so shallow.  After Caroline left him, he stopped caring about the consequences of his actions but for once in his life since then he wants to try again.  

Squaring his shoulders, Edward pushes open the door of the tavern and immediately regrets choosing the height of business operations to make his case.  Though armed with the liberal amount of information Kidd, or Mary rather, had bestowed upon him, he has sudden doubt of its efficacy in such a frenetic atmosphere.  The place is deafening with music, drunken shouting, and clashing glasses.  Even more offensive is the stench coming from a man already too far gone in his cups who had fallen out of his chair near the door and soiled himself.  Edward wonders if it’s the same man who had had such unfortunate tolerance for his drink only a couple months prior.  It’s a pity he couldn’t have taken his stinking arse someplace else.  And yet, who could blame him when such a heavenly sight graces this place?  A true land-psiren who surely must be a creature of mist and magic walks upon sacred ground in this place and Edward, like the others present, is drawn to her as a moth is to light.

 Gathering his pride and self-assurance, Edward shoulders his way through the crowd to the bar and nods at Adriana.  She glances at him and reaches below the bartop to bring out an unmarked bottle of what is obviously the stock he supplied her with.  Certainly no one can accuse this woman of being less than shrewd.  Only a fool would broadcast a supply of pirated goods and Adriana is no fool at all.  She approaches Edward with her characteristic sway in her hips and he catches a small sigh of appreciation escaping his chest.  As she places a cup down on the counter in front of him, a small smile plays on her lips.  Before Edward can ask what amuses her, she speaks first.  

“Yer lookin’ mighty clean an’ neat t’night.” 

“Quite.  And I do thank you for noticing.”  A smile blooms on her face and her eyes narrow playfully.  She pours him his agreed upon rum and sets the bottle down on the counter.  

“What’s th’ occasion?”  She inquires, innocently enough.  Edward says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“A celebration.” His words make her tilt her head and raise her eyebrows in an indication of confusion or perhaps interest. 

“Oh?” 

“I’d be a damned fool if I let you think I’m incapable of rising above this rabble.” Edward sweeps his arm in a gesture that encompasses the occupants of the tavern.  Adriana crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin. 

“Risin’ above?  What makes ya’ think I want any ‘igh minded ‘gentlemen-types’ in ‘ere?  This isn’ no palace and you….”  Adriana leans forward and jabs her finger into Edward’s shoulder.

“are no gentleman.”  

“That’s shite and you know it.  It’s not birthright that defines a man of worth.  It’s the name he makes for _himself_.”  

“So yer great riches, big ship an’ black flag can buy status now? Yer nothin’ in this place.  A pretty peacock, aye.  But under all tha’ fancy garb an’ shiny swords yer still jus’ as plucked an’ ugly as th’ rest of ‘em!”   Edward feels as if he has been publicly shamed, even if no one seems to be taking an interest in their conversation. 

“And aren’t you just an example of what bottom feeders this place attracts.  If not for what I’ve given you, you’d still be selling piss to the poor.” 

“Ya didn’ give me nothin’!  I bought it from ya!”  Adriana’s eyes reflect a righteous rage yet Edward can’t help himself. 

“I only sold it to you for such a low price because I hoped you might think a little higher of me. A friend, perhaps? I’m not just one more fool who stumbles in here looking for a cheap drink and an eyeful of your tits!”  Edward gulps down his drink and slams his cup down on the counter.  Adriana lowers her chin and glares at him.  Her voice is soft and razor sharp. 

“Aren’t ya’?  Coulda’ fooled me any day but not more’n today.” 

“Piss off!” 

Adriana snorts and laughs at his outright failure at being respectable and suave.  Taking the bottle from the counter and turning away from him, she looks over her shoulder and calls back to him as she walks away. 

“You’ll have t’ try harder not t’ stare, next time, rogue.”  As if to punctuate his sin, she slaps her own backside.  Edward grinds his teeth and fumes before leaving the tavern entirely.  He wants nothing more than to get blazing drunk and forget this debacle.  Instead, he walks onto the beach balls his hands into fists.  

“FUCK!  FUUUUUUCK!”  The scream tears itself from him and he uselessly kicks the sand under his feet ahead of every step.  A nearby palm receives several hits from his fist until he is out of breath.  Edward takes a deep breath of the humid night air.  As much as he hates Adriana for calling out his charade, he can’t help but admire her for not backing down.  She infuriates him and digs in her thorns wherever she can yet isn’t her vicious unwillingness to back down what draws him to her to begin with?  This woman isn’t a toy.  She isn’t weak and she certainly isn’t blinded by what she sees.  

Edward paces the beach until well after midnight and most of the tavern occupants have left.  When he quietly opens the door, he just catches a glimpse of the dark red scarf Adriana wears around her hips disappearing through the doorway that leads to the storage cellar and the sound of her footsteps going down wooden stairs.  The only two other people in the place are passed out with their heads on tables, far too inebriated to wake unless the place catches fire and even then they’d probably perish.  Edward quietly walks toward the cellar door and looks down the stairs.  He sees nothing but Adriana’s long shadow as she moves around among her stored items, just out of sight.  Edward steps down and the first step creaks.  All of her movement ceases and he knows he’s caught so he proceeds down the steps, calling her name. 

“Adriana.  It’s I, Edward Kenway.  May I help you with your duties?  I wish to speak with you....  to apologize for earlier.”  Nothing but the sounds of silence reach his ears.  It is so quiet that he can hear the ringing of his blood pulsing in his head.  At the bottom, Edward turns toward the light and looks across the cramped space.  Since supplying her with his hold full of rum, bought and paid for in full, as she had so quaintly reminded him earlier, the area had become significantly fuller.  A crate of empty bottles with a lantern set on top is placed half hazardly upon a large whiskey barrel in the otherwise surprisingly orderly storage area despite her glut of stock.  She must have only just placed it there when she heard him but she is nowhere in sight.  

“Please, I’m sorry.  I was a right fool.”  He walks further into the area and searches among the shadows for where she could be hiding. 

“Adriana?  Kidd told me who she really is, you know.  And she told me your name.  Can we please just talk?”  The rustle of fabric alerts Edward to her presence.  His shoulder hits one of the storage shelves as he is shoved against the wall beside it.  On instinct, he grabs his attacker’s arm and wrenches on it, eliciting a womanly cry from her and the sound of a small blade falling to the dirt floor.  Edward spins Adriana with him and pins her against he wall he had just been smashed into, holding her disarmed right hand raised over her head.  

“Jaysus! I could’ve hurt you!”  He releases her wrist and she pushes on his unyielding left shoulder. Her eyes are dark in the shifting shadows cast by the lantern behind Edward but they sparkle with a defiant light. 

“Not as much as I could hurt you right now…”  Adriana’s voice is low and she shifts her hand so it slides up the inside of Edward’s right thigh.  He begins to smirk. 

“So you don’t hate me as much as you made out earlier…”  The hard point of a second blade presses into the crease of his thigh and pelvis, dangerously close to his scrotum.  Edward’s smirk instantly fades as he laments having a weapon so near his genitals for a second time in a week. 

“What is it with you and Kidd and blades pointed at my… my…”  

“At yer cock?  I’ll do it!  I’ll cut it right off and then you’ll be pissin’ like a woman fer the rest a’ yer days.  Ya' are a fool.”  Counting on Kidd’s words to be true, Edward presses his luck but tenses his body in case her words were less accurate than he wishes them to be. 

“No, you won’t, love. I’ve an inkling you don’t hate me that much.  A man hears talk from time to time.”  He whispers. Adriana pulls the blade out from between his legs and raises it up until the point presses into the skin of his neck and draws a tiny drop of blood.  

“Maybe not, but only because I don’ want t’ clean up the mess! I could still hurt ya.”  She kicks his ankle but Edward moves it so she misses the next time and just rests his hands on the wall on either side of her head.  He sighs as he looks into her eyes. 

“You aren’t bothering, Adriana.  If you were, I’d not be standing.” 

“Stop sayin’ my name, rogue!”  Her voice rises in pitch slightly and a flush creeps up her neck onto her cheeks, making her that much more attractive.  Edward lowers his left hand from the wall and rungs it along the arm wielding the knife.  When he reaches her wrist he forcibly moves it away from his neck.  Adriana hisses through her teeth as Edward tugs the weapon free of her fingers and drops it on the floor.  

“Why?  Is it because no one who isn’t close to you is allowed to use it?  I’m close to you now.  You haven’t pushed me away.  A woman who fights as well as you who didn’t at least have some interest in an ugly peacock like me would have done so by now.”  Adriana’s eyes spark defiance as he moves his hand to her cheek and grazes her skin lightly with his fingers but she doesn’t resist when he crowds her even closer to the wall and leans in until his face is only a hair’s breadth from hers.  Her warm, rapid exhalations caress his lips and when he touches his mouth to hers she grabs his lapels and pulls him into the kiss.  Not expecting her move, Edward hesitates, but his attraction to her has exponentially blossomed now that he is finally feeling her perfect lips upon his own.  It’s better than he had dreamed of and not nearly enough.  He moves his body closer to deepen their kiss in response to her grip on his coat, crushing his mouth to hers, and she lets out a breathy scream that sounds both angry and aroused.  Edward finds himself shoved away and while he’s still reeling, Adriana slaps his face. Shocked, Edward stumbles sideways and touches his cheek.  He looks up at her as she advances on him and is further taken aback when she slams her shoulder into him and knocks him backwards.  He crashes into a crate behind him and Adriana takes advantage of his unsteady footing to push him onto his back and leap upon him.  She straddles his hips and clutches at his collar.  Her slender fingers deftly begin to unbutton his jacket but the moment Edward reaches to aid her she stops long enough to punch him.  

“Jaysus!  What the fuck’s gotten into you?”  Edward touches his mouth and nose and his fingers come away bloodied.  Adriana smirks and lets out a snort. 

“You, if ya' just shut up an' keep yer hands t' yerself.”  Edward compliantly lies back and allows her to disarm and partially undress him as blood slowly trickles down the left side of his face from his nose.  Her expression becomes angrier and angrier until at last she roughly unbuckles his belt, drags it from his pants, gets off of him and flings it onto the floor.  She turns her back and starts walking toward the staircase.  Edward stands up and raises his left hand toward her, tugging his shirt back onto his shoulder with his right. 

“What the hell, woman?”  He wipes the blood from his skin angrily as she walks away, not even bothering to look at him when she responds. 

“Yer weak.  I hate weak men.” Is her only reply.  Edward grinds his teeth at her flippant response until he realizes she really does want a fight.  Taking three long strides toward her he grabs her by her arms and spins her to him.  Grasping her face in his hands, he holds her still and kisses her hard.  She claws his wrists and pushes her hips into him, making her contradiction clear.  Edward draws back only enough to whisper against her mouth. 

“Is this how you want it, lass?”  Her response is to grasp his opened shirt and drag it off of his shoulders.  Edward walks her backward as she divests him of his shirt and jacket.  He pushes her against the wall at the bottom of the staircase and fumbles for her skirts. Failing to pull them up fast enough, he presses his fingers against her through the fabric, making her gasp out.  Adriana is as eager as he and Edward grinds his pelvis against her as he unsheathes her weapons with his unoccupied hand and drops them on the ground at their feet.  When he reaches for the edge of her blouse and roughly pulls it down to expose her breast, she snarls and renews her struggles, digging into his shoulders with her fingernails and twisting her body.  When he draws back, still unaccustomed to this pretense of taking her by force, she arches her back, raising her breast higher in a clear invitation to him.  Edward takes her dark nipple into his mouth and sucks aggressively on it, biting it and letting it drag through his teeth as he pulls back.  Adriana nearly screams when it at last is freed from his hold and she scrapes her nails over his skin in response.  

Edward roughly turns her around and unties the scarf around her waist.  He grabs the leather straps that wrap around her shoulders and under her arms and yanks them down her arms until he can twist them around her wrists into makeshift fetters. Only then does he push her forward so that she stumbles against the wall slightly, freeing his hands to unbutton his pants.  As he does, she makes as if to escape up the stairs.  Edward pounces upon her and she collapses face down onto the stairs with him on top of her.  Her blouse is hanging loosely from her body and Edward reaches up under it to take her breasts in his hands.  They are firm and generous and asking to be squeezed so he does, reveling in the way they spill from his hands as he moves them.  Adriana pushes her backside into him and grinds against his pelvis.  Edward can bear it no longer and he relinquishes her heavenly breasts with their intoxicating nipples to gather her skirts up.  He holds her down by pressing on her ensnared hands at the small of her back one hand.  When her perfect, creamy skin is exposed, revealing long, shapely legs and an even shapelier backside, he reaches down between her legs to find her warmth.  She is incredibly aroused and he slides his fingers through her slickness, teasing and threatening until she is thrashing under his hand and making strangled noises.  Only when she becomes frantic and close to screaming does he delve them into her.  She arches backwards and manages to pull her arms free of Edward’s halfhearted grip on her.  Grasping the step in front of her, she pushes her body into his hand, encouraging him.  Edward reaches forward and finds her breast again but when Adriana becomes more vocal he is forced to let it go and cover her mouth lest her garbled sounds of pleasure wake the sleeping patrons upstairs and bring them to their secret liaison. 

With the advantage of silence, Edward redoubles his efforts with his fingers, making her scream into his hand and grip the step until her knuckles whiten.  She collapses forward when her body has finished its spasms of pleasure and Edward releases her face and withdraws his hand from her at the same time.  Quickly stripping the rest of the way down and kicking his boots off, he takes a moment to admire her gasping recovery.  He grasps her shoulder and turns her when her breathing slows to something resembling normal and Adriana looks him up and down, lingering on his naked arousal with a lazy smile on her lips.  When he leans down to her she takes two handfuls of his hair at the sides of his head and drags on him until he drops to his knees on the step between her legs.  She tips her head up to bring her mouth close to his ear. 

“Not bad.  Come on, then!  Show me what else ya’ got.” 

Edward’s smug confidence soars at her words and he steps back from her to gesture to himself.  

“This?  You want this, love?  Well, you’ll have to come take it then.” Adriana’s face immediately changes to a sneer of barely restrained irritation.  She slowly gets to her feet and pulls her loose blouse off of herself, exposing her breasts fully to his sight.  Edward stares at them but keeps his face impassive.  Adriana drops the blouse on the stairs and steps down one step.  Reaching to her side, she pulls on the lacing holding the wrapped skirt around her hips and as it begins to slide off of her she steps onto the hard packed dirt floor.  Dressed in only her underbust corset and boots, she makes as if to approach Edward but merely sweeps past him.  He reaches for her arm but she snatches it out of reach and walks deeper into the cellar, swaying her curving hips enticingly with every step.  With casual grace and a sly glance over her shoulder, she reaches her hands up to her hair and pulls out the pins holding it in place.  It tumbles down her back, the long, shining locks reaching almost to her perfect buttocks.  A low growl rumbles in Edward’s throat as he rakes his eyes over her alluring curves and, as if drawn by a tether, he follows her.  

Edward quickens his stride to catch up to her as she opens the little door in the back of the basement, revealing a small but tidy bedroom.  When he reaches for her shoulder, she grabs his hand, spins quickly and sets him off balance.  One shove propels him onto the bed.  Before he can regain his breath, she is straddling him and sitting on his stomach. 

“Still underestimatin’ me?”  Adriana laughs.  Her melodic voice is soft and her low laugh is as smooth as warm honey.  She presses her hands on his shoulders and leans down, tantalizing him with her breasts and keeping them just out of reach of his mouth.  He raises his hands up to lower her down but she grabs his wrists and pins them widely spaced over his head.  Dropping her knees to the bed above his shoulders, she shimmies upward until she is straddling Edward’s face and he can’t help but lift his head up to taste her.  The moment she gasps from the light stroking of his tongue he wrenches his hands free of her grip and grasps her hips, pulling her down fully onto his mouth.  This time she doesn’t fight him and he bends his knees to shift his body down beneath her and get a better angle.  He delves his tongue deep into her sweetness and then turns his attentions to making her scream in pleasure.  No matter how he works her delectable little jewel, he can’t get more than hoarse moans out of her, though quite satisfyingly, she pulls his hair in handfuls, grinds herself against his mouth, trembles and falls forward onto the bed to clutch the sheets in her fists.  Edward grabs her hips harder and twists, flipping her onto her back on the bed and quickly climbing more fully onto it.  Her hair is thrown across the rumpled sheets and lies in a luxuriantly disheveled tangle of waves over her right arm.  Edward pants as he kneels to pull her boots off and stare at her until she starts to sit up.  He quickly crawls forward and shoves her back down, making her growl shrilly until he buries his face between her breasts and pushes them up against the sides of his face with his hands.  Adriana clutches at his hair and nearly pulls handfuls of it out of him as he works upward to her neck and then takes her mouth hungrily, squeezing her breasts and feeling her at last relinquish his hair only to scratch her nails down the skin of his back. 

“Come on, rogue!  What’re ya’ waitin’ for?”  Adriana cries out next to his head.  Edward almost groans with his own restrained need and leans back just enough to reach down and guide himself into her.  He enters her with an enthusiastic moan to match Adriana’s cry of pleasure, pushing all the way into her in a single stroke.  He moves quickly in her a few times before pausing and catching her face with his hand. 

“The name’s Kenway, love.” Adriana gasps and opens her eyes. 

“I’ll call ya what I please!”  Edward grins at her sass and laughs, still holding her tightly. 

“Say my name. Edward Kenway.  Say it.” 

“You’ll never be anythin’ other than a rogue t’me, and ya’d best get used to it.” 

“Can we at least settle for privateer?” 

“Yer nothin’ but a pirate!” she shrieks. 

“Good enough for me.”  Edward says and immediately begins to move again, pushing roughly into her so hard her body and breasts move satisfyingly with him.  Adriana’s eyes snap with anger at his presumed win in the shadowy darkness of her bedroom but they soon close in pleasure as Edward moves quickly over her, giving in to his lust and long restrained need to feel her this way.  Their mouths and hands are everywhere, tasting, pinching, licking, touching, biting, caressing, until there is nothing but the endless sensations they have created.  Sweat builds on their bodies and they both pant loudly from the exertions of their hateful lovemaking.  Adriana has given up holding herself back and she matches Edward’s rhythm with her own body, crying out loudly as he brings them both closer to the edge of bliss with reckless, tireless abandon.  Adriana throws her head back and Edward quickly covers her mouth with his palm.  Taking one hand from his scratched and reddened shoulders, she digs her nails into the back of his hand and screams out her pleasure.  

After, Edward collapses beside her and kisses her softly. 

“You’re an insufferable woman, but by god, you won’t get out of my head!”  Adriana mumbles in her near sleep state where her head is cradled by Edwards’s arm.  

“Good.” 

“Want me to boot out those drunks?” 

“No, they’re regulars.  They’ll let themselves out.  They know not t' touch my wares.” In a complete reversal of her utter disdain for him and their so recent violent, sexual power struggle, she settles herself closer and curls her body up against him.  Relaxed and sleepy, she is all softness and Edward can’t help but slip his fingers through her silken hair and stroke her warm skin.  Adriana stirs and makes a quiet sound against his chest and Edward shakes his head in disbelief as he gently pulls the sheets up over their bodies and rests his head back on the pillow.  The woman is truly a mystery to him, for he could swear he had been at a very real risk of death up until the very last moment of their coupling.

 

Edward wakes in the morning to find Adriana gone from beside him.  The room and the cellar are empty of her presence and much to his discomfort, his clothes appear to be missing as well.  Aside from the unkempt sheets, his stinging back and shoulders, and rather distinct memories of their dangerous liaison the night before, he would swear he had been put here by some trickery.  But her spicy scent and that of their unusually violent lovemaking lingered on the sheets, also evidenced by the dried blood from his own marked skin, make Edward take some heart that it had been real.  Stealthily, he climbs the stairs naked only to find her in the empty tavern dressed in only his shirt.  Her hair is still down and she turns and straddles the bench she is sitting on.  With a dark smile, she takes a long, appraising look at his naked state before lifting a steaming cup of tea up and sipping from it.  A loud banging on the door makes them both turn.  Adriana gets up as if to go answer it and Edward quickly crosses to her, takes her around her waist and stops her.  

“What are you thinking, dressed in such a state?  Give me my pants and I’ll see who it is.  Likely some drunken sot looking for an early bottle.  I’ll make him go.” Adriana narrows her eyes and Edward immediately releases her.  Thankfully, she merely gives him a withering glare and points to his clothes, neatly folded and sitting on one of the tables.  Edward returns her heated look with one of his own and pulls on his pants, grumbling as the banging resumes, louder. 

“Jaysus, give me a moment for Fuck’s sake!”  Edward stalks over, still buttoning his pants, and wrenches the door open only to find Adewale standing there with his fist raised to knock again.

“Ade!  Can’t a man have a bit of fun without you stompin’ in on him?” 

“Captain, there’s been a….”  Adewale’s eyes flit over in Adriana’s direction and his voice trails off.  Edward turns with a roll of his eyes, only to find the woman in question leaning against the bar with her ankles crossed.  Adriana plays with the side of his rumpled shirt with her fingers, exposing nearly the entire length of one smooth leg to compliment her cleavage that is equally exposed by the unlaced state of his shirt.  She has a wicked smile on her tilted face and she raises her mug to gesture toward the two men.           

“Yer mum found ya’, then?  Did ya’ stay out past yer bedtime?”  Her eyes smile over the rim of the mug as she takes a long drink.  Edward scowls at her impudent tone, pushes Adewale back with a hand on his giant chest and joins him outside the tavern, shutting the door behind them. 

“What is it and it better be good.”

 

 

_It’s time for closing duties_

_Edward’s feeling fruity_

_Downstairs he follows beauty_

_With a mind to plunder booty_


	5. Always a Fight

Edward lets _La Sombra_ ’s door slam shut behind him as he reenters.  Adriana raises her eyebrow at him for it and turns away to lean against the bar with her tea in hand.  She speaks without looking at him. 

“What was that about?” she asks. Edward continues toward her and slips his hand up her side beneath his shirt, admiring her exposed backside that is revealed more and more the higher he lifts his hand. 

“Just business, love.  I might bring my crew here to discuss plans.  Are you alright with that?”  He lowers his face down and presses it against her neck through her hair.  His fingers find the lusciously ample curve of her breast and he trails them along the underside of it. Adriana doesn’t react. 

“Are they payin’ fer their drinks while ya’ have this _… just business_ chatter?” It’s the only acknowledgement of his presence she gives. Edward cups her breast and presses himself against her backside. 

“Aye.  All except me, remember?”  Adriana makes a low sound in her throat like a laugh, but far more threatening. 

“Of course I remember!  I’m not some silly, brainless twat!  We ‘ad an arrangement… but I won’t ‘ave ya takin’ any advantage of my generosity.”  Edward gives her breast a squeeze before stepping backwards with his hands raised up disarmingly in front of his body. 

“Easy, Adriana!  Who’s taking advantage?  You’re the one stealing the shirt off my back!” He exudes more than a little sarcasm because of his growing irritation at Adriana’s defensiveness.  

Adriana’s full lips compress alarmingly.  She trails her fingers down her body to grasp the bottom of Edwards’s shirt, slowly lifts it and pulls it over her head.  Completely naked and unabashed, she throws the garment in his face, pivots on her heel and tosses her hair over her shoulder.  

“Mind ya’ don’ get too used to it, Rogue.  The deal lasts only as long as you do.  So far so good, but time always tells.”  She stalks around the corner and her laugh is the only thing Edward has left of her as she disappears down the stairs.  He is left standing in the tavern alone wearing only his pants and holding his crumpled shirt in his hands. Almost on an afterthought, he shouts after her. 

“I can last as long as any!  Longer!”  Her response is a soft but distinct cackle, cut off when she closes the door to her bedroom.  Edward mutters as he walks over to the table where his belts and weapons are laid out, pulling his shirt on and aggressively tucking it into his pants.  He refuses to go after her and instead finishes dressing and leaves.  He can still smell her on his shirt when he stomps up the ramp onto the _Jackdaw_. 

 

Edward spends much of the day discussing the sorry state of the island with his crew and listening to the rumors that had been circulating the other bars on Nassau regarding a proposal from the British and Spanish to help with medical care, supplies and what they call “order”.  It’s clearly a ruse to crush the power of the pirates who have made the place their home, as ramshackle as it is.   No doubt not a single one of them could escape the noose if the British or the Spanish got even a finger-width’s control of Nassau’s sandy beaches.  By early afternoon, Edward’s managed to convince the ever-surly Thatch to meet him and a few others at the tavern to talk more on the subject.  He even manages to make a quick run out to a ship he and Thatch had discussed to look for medicines to help the ailing populace regain some strength and ability to resist this offer of pardon. 

Edward, Adewale and a few of Edward’s men make their way over from the docks to _La Sombra_.  Thatch, Vane and Kidd are already there and well into their cups.  Even Bonnet had come by, much to Edward’s dismay.  The man is a fool if he thinks he can hold his liquor with the rest of them.  The man can barely hold his own piss. 

“Jaysus, couldn’t you have waited for the rest of us?”  Edward slaps Thatch and Kidd on the backs of their shoulders and takes one of the open seats.  

“That Spanish ship was a bust, boys.  Nothin’ worth our time there or anywhere with sunken medicines.”  He adds once he’s comfortable.  He eyes the ever rambunctious Thatch as he continues. 

“I’m working on a plan.  We need to use discretion so as to not draw any undue attentions our way.”   As soon as he finishes speaking and judging the level of drunkenness of his companions, he catches sight of Adriana sauntering in their direction with a saucy swing to her hips, drawing every man’s eye to her shape.  The view is half the reason her bar is always packed and Adriana capitalizes on it whenever she gets a chance.  Any man within reach receives a soft stroke of her hand over a shoulder, down a cheek or across his back, resulting in words of pleading entreaty for her to stop and visit for a while.  Each and every one, she ignores until she reaches Edward’s table.  She bends forward and rests her hands on the dented and pitted surface, exposing her cleavage to everyone present, smirking as eyes flit to it and back up to her face.  Bonnet nearly topples from his seat at the view.  He awkwardly lifts his cup in salute to her breasts.  Edward could swear the man giggled.  

Adriana turns her gaze on the most overdressed, rotund and awkward man she had ever seen in her bar.  His face turns quite a delightful shade of crimson, brighter than even his sunburn, so she gives him her most seductive smile.  He can’t articulate more than a garbled noise and he shifts awkwardly in his seat.  There are a few joys to being a generally more attractive woman than most on this island and Adriana occasionally takes actual pleasure in using her assets to her advantage or simply being amused by it all.  Despite the sidelong glances at her body, everyone is generally respectful of Edward’s interest in her.  He had insisted that it was seemingly only an interest and so far, the Rogue’s assurances that only Ade and Kidd know the truth appear to be upstanding.  Yet, because of his bold behavior of bringing all his friends to see her, she has decided to make him pay heartily for it.  She locks eyes with each one present in turn as she speaks. 

“Everyone good an’ drunk yet?  No?  I can fix that.”  She raises her hand up and makes a circular motion with it at her bar man.  He brings over a full, unlabeled bottle of Edward’s rum bargain and sets it down on the table for Adriana to take up.  She pours a round of drinks for everyone and raises the bottle up.  

“T’ yer good captains!”  She stands straight and clamps her free hand down on Edward’s shoulder, digging her fingers into his muscles and making him look up at her.  As everyone tips up their glasses, including Edward, Adriana takes a drink from the bottle and then promptly sits down on Edward’s leg. 

“Leave it t’ you t’ use a man as a chair, ‘Dria!” Kidd says in a shouting laugh.  Adriana lifts the bottle once again and salutes Kidd with it.  

“Wouldn’t have a man any other way than beneath me!”  The table erupts in good natured hilarity at Edward’s expense as Adriana takes another hearty swig of rum.  She shifts her hips slightly until her bottom is pressed right against Edward’s groin, not bothering to hide her actions from anyone present. 

Edward clears his throat and continues what he was saying to his crew. 

“I’m not liking this talk of royal pardons and such.  I think it’s a trap.”  Adriana smirks and twists on his lap to look at him.  Edward raises his eyebrows and leans backwards under her scrutiny. 

“Yes? What is it, woman?”  His tone is that of irritation.  He can’t help it for the distraction of the beauty before him, her firm behind on his lap and the resulting heat in his breeches. 

“Of course it’s a trap!  But I thought ya’d be more interested in such a _freein’_ prospect, regardless of whether it’s out to get ya’.” 

 Suddenly she is a conversationalist, animated and beguiling.   

“The way I see’t, ya’d take full advantage a’ such liberty.  The freedom t’ leave here a free man, take ever’thin’ ya’ve gotten so far with ya’.  But then again, ya’ like th’ takin’.  It’s too much fer ya’ t’ resist, isn’t it?  A man like you’.  Ya’ like th’ plunderin’ an such.”  Her words drip with sarcasm.   Edward knows she isn’t even remotely speaking about the royal pardon or even piracy.  Every eye is upon her as she rests her elbows on the table, flips her hair back and rocks her hips on Edward’s lap with her mouth open in a sassy, suggestive grin.  Bonnet is so drunk he shouts too loudly. 

“I want to do some plundering like she’s talking about before this is all over, right Thatch?”  

“Shut up, Bonnet” is the man’s reply but it’s drowned in the laughter of everyone else.  

Edward laughs just as loudly as his shipmates but Adriana detects his discomfiture growing as quickly as his arousal.  She keeps their glasses filled and tips up the bottle just as often as they their cups.  Despite Adriana’s refusal to stop encouraging Edward’s arousal, he manages to hang onto the subject at hand until its discouraging conclusion.  

Edward feels Adriana tilting further and further to the side on his lap, as if she’ll slip right between his knees.  He thinks she is feeling the effects of too much rum and braces his palm against her hip.  Immediately, he knows she has caught him.  Her hand finds his and she shifts it down until his fingers feel bared skin on her leg.  Stealthily, he follows it up over the top of her thigh, not finding anything covering her until her deep red sash.  All her wriggling and sliding around had moved her skirts aside until there was nothing between them except his pants.  He slips his fingers down the inside of her thigh.  Just as he is nearing her secret place he longs to touch and taste once more and feels the heat of her skin increasing the closer he gets, she bangs her hand down on the table, drawing everyone’s attention so she can spin a sexual, humorous yarn.  Edward drops his hand to his own leg and inwardly curses her for a wicked tease.  It’s a genuine relief when she leaves them with a sultry look over her shoulder to return to the bar.  

Edward endures the expected good natured jabs, innuendoes and jokes at his expense, taking comfort in knowing the truth.  Their conversation teeters away from him at last and turns to more mundane matters.  Coin passes hands and even though Edward somehow feels he ended up paying for his drinks after all, he leaves with the group feeling generally convivial.  However, he is unpleasantly surprised to find the tavern door locked when he returns.  Adriana had kept him in a prolonged state of arousal with her writhing and hip rocking and he was determined to get her in a compromised position again.  After Edward knocks several times, Adriana at last opens the door just enough to reach a hand through.  She grabs him and pulls him close, kissing his mouth and biting his lips.  Edward’s attempts to push the door wider to allow him to enter are brought up short by a chain across the gap.  

“Why the chain, love?” He asks.  

“Mmm.  T’ make ya’ wait.” 

“I leave for a while tomorrow.  Give me something to come back to.” Edward hates how pleading he sounds. 

“You’ll be back.   Soon, I reckon, if the man in yer pants has anythin’ t’ say ‘bout it.”  She shuts the door and Edward knows it would be futile to argue.  Instead, he fantasizes about getting her alone again so he can show her what teasing really means, even if she cuts his skin from his body with one of those little knives she so loves. 

 

 

Against all his sloppily laid plans, Edward is unable to return to Nassau for some time.  Every free moment that he isn’t pursuing one lead or another to find a way around giving in to this pardon, complicated by the search for that accursed Sage, he spends thinking about Adriana.  Her fiery temper picks at his mind and though her wily ways drive him up the walls of his captain’s cabin, he longs to spend more time with her.  Perhaps it is an insane need to prove her wrong or get the mastery of her silvery, sharp-tongued rebukes and insults. 

To distract himself from his burning pain, Edward bides some of his time sitting in a bustling market in Santiago de Cuba.  A woman with long black hair and a sassy sway to her hips catches his eye and for a long moment, Edward is convinced it’s Adriana.  Even when he stands and moves closer, she still resembles him.  Only when she turns fully at detecting his nearness, does Edward accept that she isn’t who he wants her to be.  

“Ay!”  she cries, stepping away from him.  

“Please, forgive me!  I thought you were another.”  The woman scrutinizes him with a sharp eye before she turns and walks away.  Edward, in a daze at how much she resembles Adriana, steps toward her and reaches his hand out in her direction. 

“Wait!  Please!”  He says not very loudly, but enough to be heard above the din and racket of the market.  The woman stops and looks over her shoulder with a question in her raised brows. 

“Please.   I must ask a favor of you.” Edward steps closer to her once more as he continues speaking.  

“You are the image of a woman…. On Nassau.  I need…  Shite…”  Edward mutters his curse and stumbles onward. 

“Your face…  Come down to the pier where the ink masters are so I can remember the woman I cannot be with…. I’ll pay you for your time!”  The woman sniffs disdainfully.  

“I’m no whore.  Away with you!” her words are laced heavily with the accent of Spanish explorers and her voice is high and sweet. 

“I’m not askin’ to bed you!  Just for you to sit still for an hour!”  the woman regards him from the sides of her eyes and then seems to come to a decision. 

“Pay me now.  A reale for each minute of my time.  An hour you say?  Sixty reales.”  Edward scrambles to empty the pouch on his belt.  He counts the coins and the woman appears much more agreeable once she sees them.  Edward closes his fist over them and she scowls.  

“When we get to the ink master I’ll give you half.  The balance when we’re done.”  Edward levels his blue eyes at her inky dark ones.  A beauty for sure, yet nothing like Adriana.  

“Fine.  Let’s be done with this nonsense.”  They make their way through the crowds in the market and near the docks.  A rickety stall houses an equally rickety old man with frayed white hair and not a single un-inked or un-scarred part of his body visible.  Both of his legs are gone half way up his thighs, yet he is the most well known tattoo master in the Caribbean.  Edward takes a seat on the barrel before him and rolls up the left sleeve of his shirt.  He gestures for the woman to come sit beside him and proffers the half stack of money.  She snatches the coins from him and reluctantly sits. Satisfied, Edward turns to the master and points to his upper arm. 

“This woman’s face, here, if you please.  And make it quick.  Time is money.”  He glances at the woman and she smirks. 

 

 

It’s after midnight and Adriana is furious. 

"Are ya' mad, Rogue?  If yer gonna put my face on yer skin, at least 'ave it look more like me!"  

"It looks like you!"  Edward pulls on the skin of his arm to look at the tattoo in the lantern light. 

"Oh?  What cathouse whore did ya use as a likeness?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know?  Why don't you just thank me instead of being such a monkey-loving bitch about it?"  Adriana sneers. 

"I guess that makes ya’ the monkey, now don't it?"   

"Ah, now don't you start getting all sweet on me.  You know I love hearing you talk about my dashing good looks and rapier- like wit."  Edward leans her back against the large support beam that flanks one side of the bar and pushes his hips against hers. 

"Ya think I'll let ya have some just because ya put a pretty tart’s face on yer arm and named it after me?"  Edward smiles beguilingly at her. 

"So you at least think it's pretty?"  He quickly drags his sash from around his waist and ties it around one of her wrists.   

"Get yer filthy pirate hands off me, rogue!"  Edward grabs her other wrist and uses his body to keep her against the beam. 

"Oh I will."  He ties her wrists together behind the beam as she makes a show of struggling and attempting to kick him.  She lands a few on his legs but he dodges most of them.  When Adriana is properly secured, Edward steps back to admire his handiwork.  She screams and kicks, jerking her shoulders with truer strength and arching her back until she is panting and out of breath. 

"Temper, temper, Dria.... Look at you!  Hmmm.  You're wearing far too many clothes for my taste."  Adriana kicks out at him with a scowl on her face and a guttural cry but Edward catches her right boot.  He draws it off of her leg and slides his hands up its bared length, feeling her muscles shifting beneath its smooth, golden surface as she resists his touch.  Adriana mumbles garbled curses at Edward between a gasp of pleasure or two as his hands slip higher under her skirt.  The combination of her rage and lust merely make him smile in delight.  Moving quickly, Edward steps between her legs and tugs off her other boot, letting it fall to the floor behind him.  He hooks his finger beneath a strap around her calf just below her knee that holds one of her favorite knives inside a small sheath.  A moment of tugging and it falls open.  Edward places it on the counter just out of reach beside her tied hands.  Adriana's eyes roll in their sockets as she turns her head and strains to reach it with her fingers.  Edward shifts it a tiny bit farther away, just to be sure.   

"I do love an armed woman... such a challenge!  But today I want you unarmed and maybe just a little bit apologetic.  I love my ink and you've just insulted my newest addition, which was quite expensive.  It took a long time. Can you _try_ to say you're sorry?"  Adriana screams in frustration and gives up straining for her knife.

 "Oh, fuck you!"   

"Indeed...."  Edward is positioned out of harm's way between Adriana's legs as he slowly disarms her the rest of the way, slowly raising each of her weapons in front of her face as he takes them from her person and sets them neatly along the bar top.   No matter how she kicks, she can only hit the backs of his legs with her heels and her assault lacks the power she could deliver if she were in a less restrained position.  Edward moves his attentions to her clothing, moving his fingers slowly until he has undone each belt, unlaced every stitch of fabric and untied her long scarf, adding the items to a growing pile of clothing on the floor.  At last she stands, naked and defiant, before him.   

"Now that's a grand sight, isn't it?"  Adriana looks away from him, pressing her lips together angrily.   

"Shall I leave you like this?"  Edward gestures to her with both of his hands. 

"Might as well.  But I'll hunt ya’ down like the piss-lickin dog that ya are!" 

"That would be something you'd do."  Edward takes his weapons off and lays them on a nearby table.  He undresses and approaches her tied form, wary of her shifting feet.  He drinks in the sight of her and her defiant glare only fuels his need for her.  When he has navigated his way between her legs again, he leans in to kiss her but she lifts her chin and turns her face away.   Edward tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at her before dropping to his knees and biting the inside of her left thigh.  Adriana shrieks and renews her struggling as he releases her tender flesh and kisses the reddened place.  Her fight lessens and her anticipatory writhing increases as he traces his tongue up the inside of her thigh, mirroring his movements with his hands on the outsides of both of her legs.  

Instead of moving to her most sensitive place, he dances around it, brushing his lips lightly over the soft curls of her sex and moving down the other leg.  He breathes out against her skin, causing a myriad of tiny bumps to rise on her skin and a shiver to traverse her body.  Adriana tilts her pelvis toward him and Edward uses his hands to roughly push her back against the bar.   

"Not yet, love." 

"Come on!" 

"You denied me a kiss.  You have to wait now.  Besides, you still owe me an apology." 

"I don’t apologize t' pirates." 

"Fine."  Edward leans over to the side and bites the outside of her right leg, making her scream and swear again.  She takes up her struggles with ferocity and Edward merely waits until she is still again before kissing her second bite mark.  His fingers stroke her skin repeatedly and he distributes lingering kisses and feather light licks with the tip of his tongue over the insides of her thighs, enjoying the rigidity of her long, lithe muscular legs.  He reaches up to the lovely, divided curve at the apex of her inner thighs, sliding his fingers down until he can spread her soft flesh open.  Adriana bucks her hips toward his face with an eager cry.  He teases her by bringing his mouth close and letting the heat of his exhalations and the pressure of his fingers on either side of her, keeping her secret places exposed, drive her wild.  Glancing up, he watches her clench her bared teeth and throw her head back, her gasping breaths making her breasts move most prettily.  He gives in just a little and touches the tip of his tongue to her little pink nub of pleasure for only a moment.  She cries out and he has to push her hips hard against the post to keep her still.  

Pulling back, he looks up and watches her thrash in frustration at his calculated cruelty.  Edward kisses her stomach and moves at an incrementally slow pace up her body, rubbing his fingers on her center for a brief moment before moving them away to squeeze her soft, delicate skin in his hands.  A rosy blush covers most of her hips and sides when he finally stands and leans back from her.  She meets his eyes silently and watches him but her rapid breathing gives away her tortured need.  

"Had enough, love?" 

"Always, with yer fuckin’ miserable shite." 

"Mmm.  Ever defiant."  He takes her breasts in his hands and squeezes them just a little.  Adriana's eyes close most of the way and she remains silent but her breathy exhale and subtle movement of her head betray her pleasure.  Edward pushes her breasts upward and lowers his face to the firm yet intoxicating softness of their perfection.  He kisses her and bites gently, always licking the hurt afterwards until he nears one of her dark, hardened nipples.  Taking it into his mouth, he expertly rubs his tongue on it, grazing his teeth over it from time to time until he finally bites down firmly.  At the same moment, he pinches her other one, making Adriana cry out and writhe against the post.  Edward leaves her one breast and reverses his position of his mouth and hands, only to repeat the process a little harder.

Standing up straight once more, he waits for her to look at him again.  Her hair has come undone from her struggles and it hangs in a messy swath of black behind her, over her shoulders and spread upwards against the post.  It is a most lovely sight, betraying her amorous fight and inflamed need.  When her azure eyes meet his, Edward leans in close to her.  She stays still and he very slowly brings his lips to hers.  She seems uninterested in kissing him back until she abruptly pushes her face against his.  Edward opens his mouth to kiss her deeper but she viciously bites him on his bottom lip, instantly drawing a surge of metallic and salty tasting blood to both of their mouths.   

"Fuck!"  Edward shouts as Adriana laughs wickedly and licks a bit of blood off of her lip.  Edward grasps her face from under her jaw and kisses her roughly, reaching between them to push himself inside her as he does.  She squirms and breathily screams against his mouth as he takes her left leg in his hand and lifts it to gain a better angle.  Thrusting hard, he only has to fight her resistance for mere seconds before she has her legs wrapped around his hips and is meeting every powerful move he makes.  Edward maintains his hold on her face, tasting his own blood mingling with their combined saliva as they kiss.  Adriana moans against his mouth and he draws back only for a moment to look at the eager lust in her eyes.  Her lips and chin are smeared with his blood and he knows he must bear similar evidence of their passionate battle.  

Watching her as she breathes heavily with her head still restrained by his hand, he thrusts hard into her, bringing himself to his climax.  Her eyes sparkle with hate and lust for him so he releases her entirely and steps back, pulling out of her and watching as his spent seed runs down the inside of her long legs.  With a confident smirk, he reaches behind her and tugs on the sash holding her wrists.  

The second Adriana is free, she snatches her knife and kicks Edward’s feet out from under him. He manages to stop himself from smashing his head on the floor but Adriana is already straddling his chest, gripping a fist full of his hair above his forehead and holding her knife to his throat, drawing it along his skin until a trickle of blood slides down the side of his neck. 

“You fuckin’ finish me, you selfish…” Her insult turns into a scream as Edward pushes two fingers into her and works her adeptly from inside.  Her own lustful fluids join with his and run down his wrist as she rocks her hips and clenches her fist in his hair.  Her knife clatters on the floor and Edward rolls them away from where it lies.  Adriana clings to his hair and grasps his wrist between her thighs with her other hand, bucking into him from her new position below him. Edward is sweating and out of breath from their fight but takes his hand away from her to wet a third finger in his mouth and push back into her.   Adriana is senseless with pleasure and though she had let her one hand drop to her stomach, her other hand tightens even more in Edward’s hair.  She moves her free hand to his chest and then up to his shoulder where she digs her nails in, lets out throaty screams and gasps for air until her entire body goes rigid.  Edward continuously pushes his fingers into her, matching the rhythm of her pleasurable spasms until she collapses limply on the floor.  

They lay for some time beside each other, listening to the sounds of the waves on the shore.  Adriana breaks the silence. 

“I like the tattoo.”  Edward laughs softly at her admission. 

“I know you do.  I wish I could have brought you to the man who inked it and not a stranger, love.  I wish I could have returned to this cursed island sooner.” He rolls up on his side and looks sheepishly at Adriana where she lies.  She smiles and her eyes sparkle in the reflected moonlight and glow from the lantern above them. 

 “You enjoy when I cut ya’with my knife?”  She smiles as Edward leans over and kisses her.  

“A long as it ends like this, yes.”  Edward hesitates and then adds, “It doesn’t always have to be a fight, you know.”  He strokes the hair at the side of her face and Adriana makes a soft sound that is half laugh, half sigh.  Her forehead creases. 

“Doesn’ it?”  she whispers.  

“No.” Edward shakes her head and then kisses her softly again.  When he pulls back and looks at her face, he swears he sees tears in her eyes but she turns her head and looks away from him.  

“Nothing’s tha’ simple, Edward.”  Adriana’s use of his name startles him.  He watches her laying there, looking anywhere but at him, and notices the pulse flickering in her slender neck.  He’s struck by the transience of this place.  Everything that appears solid is merely sitting upon a heap of sand in the middle of the ocean, subject to winds and tides alike.  

“You’re right about that.” He admits.  Adriana turns back to look at him and where Edward thought he’d seen tears, he finds no evidence of such.  He kisses her and takes her hands.  

“Let’s go to bed, love.”  They stand up together and gather their clothes and weapons before retiring downstairs in Adriana’s room, taking comfort in the many unspoken things that pass between them in their embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've kind of lost my mojo with this story. It's for a friend who has supplied me with lots of saucy, sexy art prompts of these two. Her love for this particular Kenway surpasses anything I've ever seen. Sadly, I'm not nearly so much of a fan (not at all, actually) of this blond badass, and combined with a lot of other personal factors, life has stolen my enthusiasm for writing anything of late, so this story has very quickly degenerated into a thinly veiled excuse to elaborate on Edward and Adriana's sexual escapades rather than tell any real story. Isn't that what fanfiction is all about anyway? Though I'll still strive to have some modicum of plot driving this story forward, don't be surprised if the most elaborate "storytelling" is relegated to the more intimate portions of the narrative. There is an overarching plot but ulitimately it's brushed over in favor of the steamy encounters. Oh well, they're my favorite parts too.


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